Battlefront
by Cheryl W
Summary: AU of Season 5 - Dean's in charge of leading the heavenly army to victory. No slash
1. Chapter 1

Battlefront

Author: Cheryl W.

Disclaimer: I do not own Dean or Sam or any rights to Supernatural, nor am I making any profit from this story.

Author's Note: Here's something I wrote back before Season 5. Since I'm not in the mood to write at the moment, I thought I would dust this one off and post it.

Summary: AU of Season 5 - Dean's in charge of leading the heavenly army to victory.

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He's new, to this human form, to this battlefront. And he's younger than most, still learning what the other angels have known for millenniums. But he knows he's not the only one staring at Dean Winchester as he walks by, traverses the battle's aftermath, the destruction of buildings. He stares at him in wonder and confusion and a flicker of disappointment. Winchester is younger than he would have guessed, is young even in human standard if he's not mistaken. Does not instill the confidence of age Moses once did, or Abraham. And his battle wear…it seems more for a pauper, a beggar than a soldier charged with leading an army to victory: his pants have holes in them, due to time and rugged use and lack of wealth not battle strikes and his coat is dusty, his shirt underneath blood stained, whether with his own blood or one of his enemies, he can not tell. And though he has come to know that all God's creations are beautiful in their own way, he knows Dean Winchester's features are considered striking by anyone's standards. But it brings to his mind how one of David's descendents was so blessed with such beauty that his vanity was his downfall, wonders if Dean Winchester has that same vanity…weakness.

Dean Winchester is not alone, though, rarely is, if the rumors are correct. He has two companions pacing him, seeming to both guard him and crave his company. Though the human form he is utilizing is unrecognizable to him, he knows the angel unmistakably: Castiel. An angel fabled for his compassion and for his dogged loyalty, to not only God but to God's special children: the humans created in God's image. There was no question who would be chosen to guard the human charged with stopping the apocalypse. There were few who could withstand the corruption of Hell to rescue the human, and fewer still that would offer the man forgiveness, compassion for his actions in Hell, for breaking the first seal, for breaking…in heart and soul. Castiel was revered for his mercy toward Dean Winchester …and chastised for it. Castiel's connection to the human had seemed a dangerous mission between falling and rising to the call.

And on Dean Winchester's other side, is a man taller than Dean but in similar facial attributes, dark, hard, striking features. He has heard of this one too, Dean's brother. He has heard whispers that he was tainted, would fight against their cause…against his own brother. And some angels said he did wage a battle against his brother, nearly killed him, so overcome by darkness he was. But then, at the defining moment, when Dean's light was ebbing away, when his soul would be banished back to Hell in his death, his brother had withdrawn his hand, had staunched the blood from the wounds he himself had inflicted on his brother's body. Had chosen his brother over his intoxicatingly potent dark powers, had chosen good over evil. Had found he couldn't take the life of the one he loved…that had loved him enough to sentence his own soul to hell. And now this man, he fights at his brother's side, with fierce desperation but not borne or imbued by darkness but by love.

As the threesome walks by, I hear Dean Winchester's low voice on the wind and his words surprise me. "I shouldn't have spread the ranks so thin, should have had more reinforcements on the south quadrant," and there is sorrow in his voice even as I know our victory was great, that many believed this day's battle could not be won, especially led by a human.

"They were strong enough Dean, they held them back," Castiel reassures, voice carrying compassion as he looks to his companion, tilts his head to try and see the man's eyes.

"But at what cost? So many died…" Dean's voice is choked, speaks of loss and regret and vast sorrow and guilt. I'm jarred by the idea of where the threesome have come from: the frontlines. It's a dangerous place to venture, even now, dangerous especially for the human whose premature death would mean defeat. He wonders at how careless Castiel is to risk the human in that way.

"Many battles have been raged on earth in times of past and there is always loss of life. But there is a time for dying…even for angels. For the cause of redemption, even Christ himself died."

To his surprise, Dean turns to Castiel with a smirk on his dust, blood speckled features. "Don't get all Biblical on me, Cas. And please don't spoil the ending 'cause you know I'm only about ten pages into it, fell asleep reading the 'who begot who' stuff."

He's barely done starting at Dean's nickname for Castiel before he's sucking in a shocked breath at the righteous man's disrespect for the Holy Word. But Castiel, he offers up a smile…and he can feel Castiel's essence under the human form glow with joy and relief. And he knows Castiel is happy with the human's reaction, that some of his worry for the human has faded.

Confusion only grows in him, at the strangeness between this connection, between an angel and this human. But before he can observe it further, the threesome continue on their way, leaving him behind, both understanding Dean Winchester more…and less.

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Let me know if you're interested in a little more of this story. I have another part or two that I could spruce up and post.

Have a great evening

Cheryl W.


	2. Chapter 2: Entertained Humans Unaware

Battlefront

Author: Cheryl W.

Disclaimer: I do not own Dean or Sam or any rights to Supernatural, nor am I making any profit from this story.

Author's Note: Since some of my wonderful readers asked for more, here's another snippet of that Universe.

Summary: AU of Season 5 - Dean's in charge of leading the heavenly army to victory.

Be warned, I changed POV to 1st person this go around but we're still perched on the same angel's shoulder.

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It's unfair that the human had the capability to sneak up on me, to startle me as I knelt behind the barricade, eyed the horizon of abandoned and tossed cars, burning buildings, the smoke choking the air. After my initial surprise, I'm a little thrilled to have the chance to get so close to Dean Winchester, watch as the man kneels beside me, using binoculars to scan the horizon. It takes me a moment to realize the man is alone, is without his companions, Castiel or his brother. Looking behind, I note that there is no guardian at all watching out for the man.

"It's not safe for you.." I begin but his low bitter laugh cuts off my words and I'm treated to the human's smirk.

"That's the understatement of my life," he drawls and then he turns to me. And there is a sparkle in his green eyes…but it can't outshine what else is there in the depths: A weariness that belies his years…in earth and in hell and anguish that goes soul deep..and then some. It's the type of weariness that I've seen on the oldest of angels, the ones that have seen human souls lost, seen the Lord's love abandoned, shunned, who have fought in more battles than they can number. But the anguish, I know it is the consequences of sin, of being in the world…if not of it. For the first time, though, I know what it's like to feel for a human, to wish to ease their pain, to lift their burden.

"Any movement from the other side lately?" he asks and it reminds me how truly great his burden is, how heavily he carries it, carries the losses, each of them.

"No, they have remained hidden, biding their time for night," I report, finding it hard to pull my gaze from the human's, to not try and decipher the man further, the man that brought us to this war…and was destined by God to be the one to stop it.

"Figures. Cowards," Dean sneers and I sense the hatred in him, the need for revenge…and the self disgust, as if he just barely doesn't count himself as one of them after his time in Hell. Believes he toes a line, is much more a sinner than a saint. Then his eyes flicker to me, as if uncomfortable with my scrutiny. "I'll go and let you to your watch," he says and there's almost an apology in his words, an apology for being there, with me. And I realize he's been shunned by others of my kind, blamed and ridiculed and found unworthy to be in this fight, at their side, let alone giving orders.

As he gets up, I reach out, wrap my human hand around his hand, not wanting him to go, especially believing I abhorred his company. His eyes lance into mine, ready for confrontation and condemnation equally. "Thank you for joining me for a little while. I welcomed your company," I pointedly say, not wanting him to mistake my words for generalization when I meant his company in particular was welcome. There is a shadow in his eyes, as if testing my words, looking for a trap. Seemingly finding none, he replies, "No problem," and then I release my grip on his hand and he leaves me as quickly as he had joined me. I look at my hand, form it into a fist and reopen it, wondering how such a simple gesture, such a casual touch could bring such harsh truths to me…like how very vulnerable human flesh is, how vulnerable he is. And suddenly I don't envy Castiel's duty, realize how tremendous it has been, even before the battle truly raged. How vast it was now with battle in full force…and his charge sneaking out without him.

"Lord, I pray for brother Castiel, that he may have the strength, heart and fortitude to do his duty well," I whisper, sending the pray to heaven before I return to my watch. But I can't help but wonder if I will see Dean Winchester again.

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The End or TBC?

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Thanks for reading!

Have a great day!

Cheryl W.

"Be not forgetful to entertain strangers: for thereby some have entertained angels unawares" ~ Hebrews 13:2


	3. Chapter 3: Forgive Those That Trespass

Battlefront

Author: Cheryl W.

Disclaimer: I do not own Dean or Sam or any rights to Supernatural, nor am I making any profit from this story.

Summary: AU of Season 5 - Dean's in charge of leading the heavenly army to victory.

Author's Note: This chapter is for Pandora Jazz and the others who wanted some Sam time. And thanks for everyone's wonderful words of encouragement for me to continue this story. Sorry it's taken so long to get it together.

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Chapter 3: Forgive Those that Trespass

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We are entrenched in one of our fiercest battles yet when I see Dean again. But this time he is not alone. Castiel, his brother Sam, and two hundred others are at his side as he stealthily but determinedly leapfrogs forward to engage the merciless enemy. Though my focus should be elsewhere, I track his progress, marvel at his seeming fearlessness. Then I lose sight of him amid the battle of swords, hand to hand combat and other worldly powers. The trepidation that sings through me, it's a revelation to realize that it is not in dread of another battle lost, it's not even in worry for my fellow brothers and sisters' safety.

In the end, our offensive forces retreat, pull back, our dead and those of our enemies under foot, tripping our soldiers as they seek to draw a new line in the sand to hold back the tide. The hush of discouragement lingers heavy in the air among us all, more so than the smoke we employ to camouflage our troop movements.

I'm walking among the devastation, looking for survivors when I see, not Dean, but Sam Winchester one hundred paces away. And he has found what I was seeking, a fallen comrade still clinging to life. It is unexpected, to see the very man whose bloodshed, whose lack of faith, not only in our Heavenly Father but in his earthly brother, helped to bring this travesty to pass kneeling beside a wounded young one, compassionately clutching his bloody hand. I can not hear the words he is saying as I drew near but the timbre of his voice is gentle yet assured.

I know the moment the life fades away to be with Our Father, not by the limpness in the hand being held but by the despair stealing across Sam Winchester's face. And for all that I've heard about him, for all that he once did to harm our cause, I detect no darkness in Sam Winchester, nor does he radiate the weakness that Judas Iscariot once did.

I watch as he comes to his feet. As if he feels my attention, he looks my way across the bodies of the dead that lay between us and I note the sorrow in his gaze, the guilt that saturates his soul. When he frees me of his gaze, I am almost relieved even as my focus remains on him. Stepping away from the wounded angel he thought to save, the tall human stumbles and his face creases in obvious pain. He is hurt. And it is a revelation, that he was lending his strength, was offering succor to others even as he himself dwells in pain.

With his next step, he is crumbling to his knees. I tense, know that as quick as I am, I will not get there in time. I find myself hoping that someone will come to the man's aide. Before the man can fall, he is caught in strong arms, is kept from crashing to the ground, is tenderly drawn against a sturdy frame.

And it isn't Castiel's hold that Sam leans into, it's his brother's. His brother who went to Hell for him, his brother who he almost killed and sent back down to that dark pit. As Sam sinks further into Dean's arms, he grips his brother's forearm to keep himself upright and moving. Dean doesn't withhold an ounce of his strength from his brother, gives it all freely, willingly. There is worry and affection shining in Dean's eyes as he tenderly cups his brother's bloody, dirt streaked face with a callused hand. At first, no words are spoken between them and somehow I know none are needed as Sam leans into his brother's touch, trusts his brother's strength in his own weakness. And I wonder how their wounds were healed, how their rift was bridged, how their faith was restored.

Dean's soft, gentle words drift across the smoky, stench of the battlefield. "I got you, Sammy. I got you." And the tender but indomitable vow, it lays no blame for past transgressions, knows only love and forgiveness. It proves to me what I've come to understand, that Dean may not be able to quote the Holy Word but he lives by its principles.

"Yeah, and I got you Dean," Sam promises in return, his hand sliding behind his brother's back, returning the support that is given him, having noticed Dean's exhaustion and pain lined features as I have. Dean accepts the aid even as he provides it. Then the brothers move as one through the carnage, neither willing to abandon the other.

I have not seen such unity of spirit before but I have heard the stories of old. Two men that the world would have made enemies but whose hearts made them family: Jonathan and David. Suddenly I know that Dean and Sam are two such similar souls, that they are proof that there are bonds stronger than any ties of blood could ever be.

As I stand stunned at the comparison I have made, I find myself praying that they, unlike their predecessors, will not be separated on this earth by evil, that this war will not end with only one of them standing, alone and heartbroken.

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TBC ?

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1 Samuel 18:1 "The soul of Jonathan was knit with the soul of David and he loved him as his own soul."

Luke 17:3 "If they brother trespass against thee, rebuke him: and if he repent, forgive him."

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Have a great day!

Cheryl W.


	4. Chapter 4: His Life for his Friends

Battlefront

Author: Cheryl W.

Disclaimer: I do not own Dean or Sam or any rights to Supernatural, nor am I making any profit from this story.

Summary: AU of Season 5 - Dean's in charge of leading the heavenly army to victory.

Author's Note: Because my wonderful reviewers were kind enough to enjoy last chapter, here's the next part.

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Chapter 4: His Life for His Friends

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I've never seen Dean Winchester in battle before and it's an awe inspiring sight. He is fierce and controlled and without fear of death, though I know how fragile his human form is. He dispatches my foes almost easily, his knife slices and his holy water and salt embedded sword severs. Then he kneels down beside me, rests his hand on my leg and there is gentleness in his touch, concern in his eyes as he speaks, "Are you alright?"

It's a ridiculous question. My life force is expendable, his is not. But I honor his bravery. "Yes. Thank you." Then, behind Dean, I see a new wave of our foes charge forward. "Behind you!" I shout in warning. Dean turns instantly, engages the new rush of opponents even as I try to get to my feet and fail.

"Can you move?" Dean questions even as his knife takes a life and he kicks another back to give himself a few meters of space.

"No. Leave me. Get to safety!" I order, putting the strength of my angel authority in my words. But they are wasted on this particular human.

"Guess we'll have to make our stand here, then," Dean Winchester cockily states even as the numbers increase around us as if they realize just who they have backed into a corner.

I use my waning strength to mentally shove back those that have gotten too near Dean as the man battles four others. And then it's my worst nightmare. I see the blade fall. But I lack the power to stop it. The sword cuts a savage line down Dean's shoulder to the middle of his back. With a cry of pain, Dean crashes to his knees.

At the sight of the man who sought to protect me in agony, renewed power surges somewhere in me and I unleash it in a blinding wave of light, sending the evil souls circling Dean Winchester flying backwards. But they are soon rising, coming again for the weakened Righteous Man. I cry aloud, "Castiel! Come! Dean has need of you!"

As I watch, even kneeling down on the ground, agony contorting his features, Dean does not accept defeat. When his enemies come for him, he lashes out, severs legs and plunges his knife in chests but even as those foes fall, others replace them. The numbers are just too great.

And I despair that I have sentenced to death the one I was meant to protect. That the Righteous Man will die, not to save the world from eternal damnation, but to save one angel, an angel too unskilled to save himself, too weak to safeguard the one that can not be lost.

"No!" I shout as I see another sword's forged blade gleaming in the sunlight, watch helplessly as it is brought down with rage and strength, its aim to end Dean Winchester's life, to crush our last hope for victory.

Then Castiel is there, steel clashing with steel as he halts the downward plunge of the sword with his own. Reaching out, he touches the evil one intent on killing the Righteous Man, banishes that soul to hell's darkest pit with a flare of light. Then, his sword held menacingly in his grip, Castiel faces our gathered enemies and his eyes dare any to try and get to the wounded man crumbled at his feet.

With a growl of promised retribution, Castiel steps forward, sword slicing through one foe and another before then they all disappear, retreat at the angel's wrath. Assured that they won't be back, at least for awhile, Castiel spins around and drops to his knees beside Dean. Hands abandoning his sword, he frantically reaches for his wounded friend. "Dean," he calls out in anguish as his one hand gently cups the side of the man's colorless face and the other fists fiercely in the wounded man's shirt.

And I wish it wasn't my doing, this man's pain, Castiel's pain. That Dean Winchester did not have the heart to love as fiercely as he did. That he did not count me as a friend, especially one worthy of his life.

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"Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends" ~ John 15:13

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TBC

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I guess I have to at least add another chapter because I can't leave poor Dean like he is?

Have a great day!

Cheryl W.


	5. Chapter 5: In Weakness

Battlefront

Author: Cheryl W.

Disclaimer: I do not own Dean or Sam or any rights to Supernatural, nor am I making any profit from this story.

Summary: AU of Season 5 - Dean's in charge of leading the heavenly army to victory.

Author's Note: Thanks to some wonderful prodding by Pandora Jazz and a few others awhile ago, I'm updating this story. It's not finished yet but hopefully I'll be able to keep the updates coming at a faster pace. I love that anyone is still interested in more of this story!

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Chapter 5: In Weakness

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I have never known the bitter taste of guilt before, do not know how to make any of this better. Wonder if I should draw closer to Castiel and his human charge or flee their side. Indecisive, I climb to unsteady feet, know that, never has there been a bond between angel and human like the one I am witnessing.

"Cas, I think I zigged…when I shoulda…zagged," Dean wheezes out even as he is pulled gently forward into Castiel's arms, as Castiel's careful fingers ghost over the wound on his shoulder and down his back.

Though Dean can not see Castiel's expression as the angel pulls him closer, allows him to rest against his chest, I can. My brother's anguish is tangible and his fear convicts me more than any words could. When his eyes find mine, words tumble from me. "I'm sorry! He's hurt because of me, of my failings."

"No, he's hurt because of my failings. It's my duty to protect him," Castiel bitterly counters my declaration, even as his hold on Dean remains impossibly gentle.

"You're both…wrong," Dean contradicts, his words carrying conviction even as he limply lays against Castiel, his blood pooling on the ground where he kneels.

I notice Castiel's wince, know that Dean's words speak of strength but his voice, it is weak, screams of pain even as he stubbornly continues. "I'm hurt because..they tag teamed me. Because I…screwed up. Left myself …vulnerable," Dean justifies my failure.

"Because he was protecting me," I admit, my eyes on Castiel. I want my brother to know that Dean is not to be faulted for this, that it was not Dean's weakness that got him wounded. No, the weakness was my own.

"I know," Castiel says and there is a well of respect and sad resignation for Dean's actions in his tone. Though Castiel barely touches the wound during his examination, Dean groans in pain. But it is Castiel who winces as if the pain is his own and when his eyes meet mine, I'm not so sure it is not. "I need to get him somewhere safe and have him healed."

I wish I could offer my services, that I had the ability to heal, to undo the grievous pain I have allowed to befall the man, but I can not. Healing is not one of my gifts, is given to very few of our kind, to only the strongest of our ranks.

"No healing," Dean chokes out, his hand fisting desperately but weakly in Castiel's coat lapel. "It weakens you guys too much. We …" he coughed.

Castiel draws him closer in his hold, soothed, "Don't talk Dean. Save your strength."

But the man refused his suggestion, forced the next breathless words out, "We can't afford to …pull someone …from the ranks…to heal me."

I watch worry and frustration and fierce love flicker across Castiel's essence, feel something tighten in me as Castiel tenderly rests his chin on Dean's head. "Let me decide what we can afford, Dean." Then his eyes met mine and I'm surprised he even remembers my presence. "Are you going to be alright?" he asks, his eyes sliding down to my own bleeding wound.

Numbly I nod, my own pain forgotten in the face of such tragedy.

"Go find Sam, bring him to where I go."

Before I can vow I will do as he asks, Castiel draws Dean carefully into his arms. The man emits a choked cry of pain as his savagely wounded body is jostled even by the gentle arms of the angel that loves him best. Then Castiel and Dean are gone, literally on angel wings.

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"And I was with you in weakness, and fear, and in much trembling." ~ 1 Corinthians 2:3

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TBC

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Thanks for reading! If you could spare some words of encouragement, I would so appreciate it. I know how I want the story to go but I'm struggling to keep the "voice" right.

Have a great evening!

Cheryl W.


	6. Chapter 6: Love One Another

Battlefront

Author: Cheryl W.

Disclaimer: I do not own Dean or Sam or any rights to Supernatural, nor am I making any profit from this story.

Summary: AU of Season 5 - Dean's in charge of leading the heavenly army to victory.

Author's Note: Since you guys were so awesomely supportive of my updated snippet, I actually was able to put together the next chapter! And it's a bit longer than the others.

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Chapter 6: Love One Another

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Amid a thousand of my brothers, in the throes of battle so fierce I know it is like none that have come before, I feel alone, lost. Today, I have failed in my duty, not only to persevere in battle but to protect the Righteous Man. It is a testament to Castiel's desperation that he has tasked me with something as important as finding Sam Winchester and bringing him to his brother's side.

Confident that Sam would not have been far from his brother during the battle, I begin my search in a radius from our position. Dispatching any foes I find in my path with frustration instead of righteousness, I barely let the pain of my own wound register. I do not deserve such consideration. And then Samuel Winchester is before me. He fights as fiercely as his brother to rid us of our enemies, sword stroke by sword stroke.

I do not know what he sees in my eyes, what emotion reflects on my human vessel's face, but he stills, as if the very world has stopped. _His_ very world has stopped. His first word is a broken, choked, "No."

The human words, they do not come easily, not from my essence or from my borrowed vocal chords. "Your brother is grievously injured. Castiel has bid me…"

Infinitely pale at my news, Sam steps in front of me, towers over my vessel's short stature and fiercely demands, "Take me to him!"

It is not the time to offer apologies, to confess my own guilt in what has transpired. So I reach forward, place my fingers against the tall man's forehead and transport us both to where Dean Winchester lies face down, pale and pained on a threadbare mattress in a burned out building.

At the wretched sight of his brother, Sam remains immobile but only for a breath and then he pushes by me, shoulders by Castiel who has risen from his crouch beside Dean's side. Dropping to his knees beside his brother's prone figure, Sam does not lift the blood soaked bandage to evaluate the extent of his brother's wound, does not demand explanations or apologies for the harm allowed to befall his brother.

There is half affection, half grief, all love in the name he beckons, "Dean." Sam's trembling hand reaches out, hesitantly comes to a light rest on his brother's bloodless cheek. But Dean's eyes flutter open at the voice, at the tender, familiar touch.

"Sammy," Dean whispers with affection, relief. Then he pulls in a rattling inhalation, as if he was waiting for his brother's arrival to determine if he could, should take another breath.

Sam's long fingers move up to stroke his brother's hair and he leans down so his own face is closer to his brother's, until their eyes solidly meet. "I'm here, Dean. I'm right here," Sam assures.

I have no right to be there, to watch the humans before me, to invade their privacy and to search out the emotions surging through them. But I cannot bear to leave, wonder if the same hold keeps Castiel stiff at my side.

I have never borne witness to such ministrations of gentle tender love between humans before. And I can almost not fathom the man kneeling beside his wounded brother once using his tainted, terrible strength on the same brother, wielding a knife that tore into his brother's flesh, _reveling_ in his brother's pain.

The scene before me is a testament to my Father's forgiveness and Dean's own, of Sam's inherent goodness and his love for his brother. That they have overcome all that adversity, not by strength of will, but by the powers of love, it tells me more about Dean and Sam and the human race than I have ever known.

For the first time I know why we fight for these humans, why our lives are worth their own. Yes, they have evil within, but they also have goodness, our Father's imbued goodness. They love and they care for one another and they hurt fiercely when one that they hold dear is in pain, is on the verge of leaving this world, even if their destination is my Father's kingdom.

"I screwed up," Dean humbly confesses, his eyes holding his brother's.

And while I expect forgiveness from Sam, his words seem judgmental. "Yeah, looks like it." But his tone is gentle, offers unending absolution.

To my surprise, Dean nearly smiles and there is humor in his response. "Shut up."

For a fleeting moment, Sam's smile matches his brother's before it fades away, becomes a troubled crease of regret and fear and guilt. "Thought we agreed to not split up."

That admonishment, it belongs aimed at me. Dean left his brother's side for mine, sought to save me even as he made himself vulnerable. But even as I start forward, intent on having Sam Winchester place the blame rightful on my shoulders, Castiel's hand wraps around my wrist, keeps me immobile. When I look at him in confusion, he shakes his head, and though his eyes are dark with worry, I sense pride in his spirit as his eyes shift to the two humans, as if he bids me to wait, watch, wonder.

So I remain quiet and keep my distance from the two men. Remain a spectator to their exchange.

"We're not ….Siamese twins," Dean returns as if his words should be a defense for his actions.

"It's _conjoined_ twins, Dean," Sam corrects with fond affection, hand lightly ruffling his brother's hair.

Dean's eyes flutter closed as if his brother's touch soothed his pain. "Whatever," he wheezes back.

Having been robbed of his brother's eye contact, Sam allows his focus to break from his brother's pain lined features and he carefully lifts the bandage from his brother's back. I don't have to be gifted with the ability to read thoughts to know that fear and horror is coursing through the man at the sight of the grave wound to his brother's flesh. My assumptions are confirmed when the man's eyes are suddenly upon myself and my companion. "Will the healer be here soon?" Sam directed his question to Castiel.

But it isn't Castiel who makes answer, steels all of our attention.

"Don't need one," Dean's words come out breathless and muffled but his resolve is firm. "I'll be Ok," and he opens his eyes to try and be convincing when he utters that particular untruth.

Sam's tight lipped expression fills the room with worry. Hand coming to rest on his brother's back below the wound, Sam's voice is hoarse and troubled when he makes his reply. "Well, you're not seeing what I am." Then his eyes are again falling on Castiel, a blatant plea in them that is not evident in the man's almost harsh demand. "Cas, get someone here to heal him. Now."

"No," Dean protests, makes as if he will rise up, physically stop a healer from being beckoned.

Castiel is already gone before Dean makes much progress moving. Dean is stilled by his brother's strong hands settling on his shoulder, not stealing strength but giving it.

"Too late," Sam announces, his words meant to be smug but convey only relief that help for his brother will soon be found.

Then Castiel returns and he is not alone, is accompanied by one of the most revered of our kind. But the angel that I have long admired, his features are fierce instead of benevolent and Castiel's very being thrums with turmoil. Though the interchange between the angels is not spoken in words, I understand their meaning with painful clarity. They argue the worth of Dean Winchester's life. The other contends that his time would be better spent remaining on the front line than healing the man that had ruled in Hell as a torturer and will do our cause no good, alive or dead.

True anger flares in Castiel and I fear that peace will be long in coming. Until Castiel reminds our brother that it is God who makes the choice, who perceives who will serve Him best and obey His will. There can be no disputing that holy decision but I still sense displeasure in the other angel as he steps toward the Righteous Man.

But he is halted in his path to the wounded man by Dean's brother. And though Sam stands before one of the most powerful servants of Heaven, he does not cower. Instead he threatens one of God's elite. "Don't _think_ of leaving even a scar behind," he commands as if he recognizes the angel's averseness to healing his brother, fears that he will not perform his tasks as he should.

Then Sam steps away, draws to his brother's side, his hand again settling on Dean's head. His watchful eyes track the angel's motions as his healing touch is bestowed on Dean. And I never tire of the miraculous sight of pain and corrupted flesh being vanquished and made anew, so much like Our Father's gift to the souls of all mankind who will call upon His name.

Immediately, Dean's breathing is restored to an even tempo and I note that Sam's own breathing changes also. For the first time, I realize the fast pace the young human's breath maintained since learning of his brother's injuries, that only now is it slowing down, incredibly mirrors his brother's, nearly breath for breath. And then the taller human is _smiling_ as he aids his brother to sit up. But his hands are not the only ones offering assistance.

With surprise, Sam's eyes fly to the angel that has healed his brother, an angel that seems almost loath to withdraw his hand from Dean. An angel that does not break his connection with the Righteous Man until Dean is sitting up, proven hale and the man's green eyes meet his own.

When Dean speaks to the angel for the first time, his sincerity is unmistakable. "Thank you."

I have not seen my kind astonished often, but that seems to happen much around Dean Winchester. Happens now and my brother can only nod in acceptance, can not find the words to make another reply. And when the Winchesters' attention turns solely to one another, the angel turns and his eyes land on Castiel and they glimmer with repentance, understanding and awe before he takes his leave, returns to the front line, much changed than when he left it.

I turn to Castiel, wish to understand too, to know what wrought the remarkable change in my fellow angel's opinion of the man that was to lead us to victory. Castiel answers the question I know not how to ask.

"He felt the goodness in Dean," Castiel reveals but his eyes, they are not on me.

No, Castiel's attention rest on the brothers who are now sitting beside each other on the bed. On the two humans who broke their world…and are not only destined but determined to right their wrongs. On the two men which I now know will do whatever they must to save all the lives they can, even if it costs them the life of the one they hold most dear.

"He sensed the goodness in both of them," Castiel finishes and to my surprise, my brother's heart is not heavy with the thought of the terrible task ahead but light and thankful.

Then Castiel leaves my side, heads for the brothers. At his approach, the brothers look up and then they do the unexpected, they move over, make space on the bed for one more occupant, one more member of their family. And it is when Castiel claims his spot on the other side of Dean Winchester that I know that my Father's most imperative commandant, it comes easily for the three of them: That they love one another, as God has loved them.

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"…Rejected by men but chosen of God and precious to Him." ~ 1 Peter 2:4

"This is my commandment, that ye love one another, as I have loved you." ~ John 15:12

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TBC

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Thank you for reading and for the amazing, kind reviews for last chapter!

Have a great day!

Cheryl


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